


Thick Skin

by BitterTongue



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-09
Updated: 2018-12-09
Packaged: 2019-09-14 22:15:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,376
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16921413
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BitterTongue/pseuds/BitterTongue
Summary: He can't make you bleed, but he sure as hell can rip your heart out.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Porting over from my tumblr Cordytriestowrite. Check me out.

Waking up was the loneliest you ever felt. It would hit you, the juxtaposition between your cold empty bed in the morning and the way it had been warm and full when you fell asleep. Each morning when you would stretch your arm across the length of the mattress your heart, neutral if not slightly optimistic for the day ahead, would plummet into a familiar pit of disappointment. He never stayed. In the seven months since you had first found yourself in bed with Bucky Barnes he had never been there when you woke the next morning.  
You sighed, your hands gripping the familiar empty sheets beside you. You rolled over and allowed your body to take up the spot it natuarally left for him even after he was gone. His scent still lingered on his pillow, your pillow, and you nuzzled your nose into it the way he did to the crown of your head last night before you fell asleep. You groaned, stretching your body long after being curled in for hours. You didn’t want to get up, didn’t want to go about your day the way you always did, with Bucky’s polite nods and short conversation. That wasn’t Bucky. Bucky was passionate and warm. He loved hands running through his hair as you stayed up late talking, or simply enjoying each other’s presence. He loved teasing you, flirting with you even though he already had you. Bucky was all smiles when your door was closed and the two of you were shut off to the world, but each morning you were greeted by stoicism and distance.  
Today was no different and you weren’t surprised. He gave you a soft ‘good morning’ when you greeted the team at breakfast, left without a second glance when he and Sam went for their morning jog, back by lunch and just in time to ignore you as you ate, then disappearing for your hour of free time. The only time he couldnt completely avoid you in the daylight was during training.  
Rogers pushed you hard, all of you, and you loved it because it meant seeing Bucky as anything but composed in front of everyone else. You gained the smallest satisfaction seeing him sweat and grunt, clench his jaw and breathe heavily. The only other time that happened was when he was tangled in your sheets. When Steve would pair you off and put you face to face with Bucky it was the same rush of adrenaline you got when he silently pushed open your door every night; an anticipation of satisfaction and feelings of accomplishment.  
Bucky didn’t hold back in either instance. Sometimes he was rough, pulling punches so fast you couldn’t block them all and prevent the pain. Sometimes he was soft, whispering in your ear how beautiful you were to him as he pushed inside of you. Sometimes he would win the fight, and sometimes you would, and those times when both of you came up even, he always won in the end, for he always got you back that night. Tonight was no exception and as you lay next to each other, panting and coming down from the high of intimacy you couldn’t help yourself.  
“Bucky?”  
Bucky hummed from deep in his chest, already falling asleep above the covers.  
“What are we doing?”  
He chuckled lowly before turning over to face you and cracking one eye open.  
“Trying to sleep.”  
You rolled your eyes but turned to face him as he did you, both of his eyes now open.  
“You know what I mean.” You whispered looking him in the eye. The contact didn’t last as Bucky pulled his gaze away and rolled back onto his back.  
“I’m not one for relationships, doll.” Was all he said. The silence stretched between you, no long comforting but constricting and forced. You didn’t want to fight, you didn’t like wasting the few hours you got to see the real Bucky on harsh words and tears. You turned away from him, curling into yourself under your blanket. His arm came around you, strong and cold as metal met flesh through the barrier of your blanket. You shivered at the contrasting temperature, but not uncomfortably. You had felt the cold weight of his arm on your hip every night for seven months now.  
Not one for relationships echoed in your head as you fell asleep, his nose nuzzling into your hair with a deep inhale as he pulled himself flush with your back.  
And the cycle would start again from the top, only the occasional mission disrupting your routine. You found comfort in the pattern yet at the same time you were unnerved by it. You flipped back and forth between the value of your time with Bucky and the value of yourself. More and more it weighed on you as you neared another month of secrecy, another anniversary unknown by all and unacknowledged by those involved. You found yourself listless and unsure, until one day you weren’t, Bucky helped you take a step into certainty without even knowing.  
You had stumbled upon him during free time on a day you couldn’t find entertainment in your usual activities. He was standing in the kitchen, his back to you and staring at his phone. Like an old man the phone was held affront his face offering no semblance of privacy to anyone passing by, both fortunate and unfortunate for you.  
You were familiar with the app he was swiping through, knew the meaning of each direction his finger pushed. Left, right, interested, disinterested, that was the how one found a match on tinder. You had deleted the app almost eight months ago, only a few days after you and Bucky…  
Your stomach felt like lead as it fell from its place in your middle and out your bottom, some of it bubbled up your throat like noxious gas. You bit down on your fist as you watched him move a fleshy finger across picture after picture. The tears steadily blocked the specifics of the women’s faces, but they didn’t keep you from seeing the swiping motion continue. You felt the air hitch in your lungs and you stumbled backwards, almost tripping over your own feet to get away before he could hear you.  
When Bucky came to your room that night you gave him every excuse. You were on your period, you weren’t feeling well, you had a headache, you were tired. He eventually stopped trying to even speak to you in the soft caring tone that matched the worry in his brow so well. You turned away from him, unable to look at him and believe he really did care. His heavy arm settled over your side and squeezed, you pulled a shakey hand out from under your head to rest on top of his. In your head you said your goodbyes wondering if you would ever have the courage to say them outloud.  
He was gone when you woke the next morning and you sighed, resolving this would be the last time you sighed at your empty bed and miss Bucky Barnes. You went to breakfast as normal, then headed back to your room the moment Bucky and Sam left for their jog. You hurriedly pulled open drawers and doors, knickknacks were strewn about your bed and the floor around it. You tugged your two large suitcases from the back of your closet where you stowed them two years ago after moving in the The Avengers Tower. You had thought optimistically then that you would have no reason to pull them out again. You put items into the containers without care, barely able to see what was being shoved in through the tears. You grunted, angrily kicking your bed frame and roughly wiping the wetness away. You promised yourself you wouldn’t cry anymore, that he wasn’t worth your tears.  
“Hey, what’s,” Steve Rogers playfully called as he pushed open your door, but the more he revealed the faster his smile fell, “going on?” He concluded in confusion. You looked up and then away, pushing the tears away before responding.  
“Remember when I moved in? Tont said my stay was on a trial basis. Well my trial is up. I’m going home.”  
Steve walked through the doorway, shutting your door quietly behind him. He stood in front of it, his eyes moving quickly from you to your suitcases to your half packed room. His arms were open, his palms facing up. He lifted them higher and let them fall and smack his thighs.  
“That was a joke.” He said with a disbelieving chuckle.  
“I’m sorry, Steve. I just need to go home for a but. Clint commutes!” You joke, feeling a smirk form. Steve shrugs, looking like he wants to argue and convince you to stay, but instead he helps you pack your room into two suitcases and makes you promise.  
“Promise me.” He said seriously, licking his lips and holding up his pinky between you.  
You rolled your eyes, but the smile glued to your lips kept any annoyance at bay. You took a deep breath and wrapped your pinky around your captain’s.  
“I promise I’ll come back when I come to my senses.” You repeated in a bored tone. Steve smiled and released your finger.  
“Good. I would have made you make a blood pact with me but…”  
“Yeah, yeah nice one Rogers. Just because I have unbreakable skin doesn’t mean you can make fun of me. My feelings can still get hurt.” And suddenly you were reminded that your feelings were actually hurt and that’s why you were making this promise in the first place. Steve cleared his throat and you looked back up at his handsome face.  
“So, when are you leaving?”  
You looked at your phone, checking the time before answering.  
“After you kick my ass. Come on, almost time for combat practice.”  
Steve must have known you wanted to keep your departure quiet. No one treated you any differently than normal, not even your captain with the knowledge he had. You found yourself in a faceoff with Bucky as he switched places with Natasha on the mat, ending your sparring. He was not in any fighting stance and you punched on his vulnerability. You clenched your jaw tightly as you landed each punch. One to the chest, two to the stomach, and a final connection to his sharp cheekbone. You hadn’t even realized a scream had ripped through your chest and out of your mouth until you were panting in its wake.  
“What the fuck!” Bucky exclaimed, his fingers coming gently to his bleeding cheek. The room became still and all eyes landed on you and him.  
“Come on guys get back to it.” Steve bellowed. As everyone went back to their own business you approached Steve with a sorry shake of your hanging head.  
“I’m done for the day, Cap.”  
Steve nodded in understanding and placed a warm hand on your shoulder. He let it fall so you could leave. You went back to your room and collected your bags quickly, your heart feeling like it would burst with each powerful thump. You dragged the heavy suitcases behind you and when you cleared them through the doorway you turned around to close your now empty room and found your eyes landing on your slightly rumpled bed.  
Would he even come for you tonight after what you did? Would he realize you were gone? Would it make him regret anything? You shook the thoughts from your head. He wasn’t worth your thoughts, the man who had made you bleed without ever breaking through your tough skin. You had never needed to wait for a wound to heal and you weren’t sure how a broken heart could mend without bandages. You hoped you were taking a step in the right direction.  
“Goodbye Bucky.” You whispered to the vacant bed.


	2. Thick Skin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He can't make you bleed, but he sure as hell can rip your heart out.

Bucky awoke with a groan. He hated waking up lately, it was when he felt the loneliest. He rolled over and pulled your pillow into his chest, inhaling what was left of your scent. It was fading little by little each day and he needed to breathe deeper and deeper just to smell you. He had selfishly inhaled all the smell from your pillow every day since you left.  
The first night without you he hadn’t slept, waiting for you to join him in your bed. Despite the open and empty closet confirming your departure he kept thinking you would be back in time to fall asleep in his arms, like a child insisting they were running away forever only to return by dinner. The sun was peaking into your room when he left for his own in a state of unrest.  
By the third morning Bucky didn’t bother to leave before sunrise and return to his own space. The sun would brighten your room and still he would remain, wide awake with a new memory in his head of you and him interwoven between the sheets or mingling breaths of soft laughter. He found himself often running his fingers through his own long locks, hoping he could somehow trick his tired and lonely mind into thinking it was your nails grazing along his scalp. He could never get the pressure just right.  
On the fifth day he finally saw you again, a radiant figure practically blinding Bucky’s weary eyes. He wanted to run to you, bring you into his arms, smell the top of your head and inhale the familiar full bodied scent your pillow wasn’t able to provide anymore. He wanted to kiss you, to laugh with you, to pull you into your room and lock the door and not come out until he had shown you how much he needed you. He couldn’t move, no matter how much his mind was screaming at him. His body was frozen in place, tense and unyielding. He could only watch you stretch your arms lazily as you conversed with Steve. You were happy, your smile wide and effortless. You were beautiful.  
Sam jostled Bucky’s still form as he shouldered past him into the room. He greeted you with enthusiasm that was only a fraction of the elation Bucky felt at just seeing you. A wave of desire pumped through him when Sam easily pulled you into a warm embrace. He had been able to do it without hesitation, without a second thought, yet Bucky was still stuck behind a wall of warped expectations and feelings. He had never touched you in front of the others, never wanted to give them any knowledge of his weakness for you. Would a simple hug now reveal all that was hidden between you? Would Steve see the embrace and know you two had shared countless others with racing hearts and slick, warm skin? Would Natasha’s sharp eyes dissect where he rested his hands on your body and know his palms had already memorized every inch of you?  
None of it mattered, Bucky would never move from this spot in the doorway. And it’s like you knew that. It was in the way you looked at him, with your face pulled by a small frown and your eyes dark without the carefree twinkle held at the sight of Sam or Steve. Bucky’s fingers unconsciously grazed his cheek where you had broken the skin last week. It had healed within hours, but the the cutting look directed at him made him sure you had somehow reopened a wound that had been more than physical. It’s like you had struck him again, his realization so shocking it sent him stumbling back. You had left because of him.  
Training wasn’t easy, despite the fact that Bucky and you never made contact. He had been sent to the ground twice now, his heart not in the fight. His attention was so easily taken by you, taken away from defending himself. You grunted and he hesitated in his pivot, you moaned in pain and his body would face your direction and leave him open to attack. Anxiety fueled his final attempt to maintain control in the hand to hand combat with his best friend. He needed to be in control of himself, hated feeling vulnerable, detested the looks and stares and assumptions. He despised the lump in his throat and the prick of sadness in his eyes. Steve sent him tumbling to the floor again. He didn’t bother getting back up.  
With the exception of meals, his morning run with Sam, and training, Bucky had holed himself up in your room. He didnt bother to sneak in after dark or wait for watchful eyes to turn their gaze. If anyone noticed he didn’t care, if anyone questioned he had no lie at the ready. He sat on the floor next to your bed, leaning against it with his knees in close. In he hands he held his phone. It held your contact information and Bucky’s eyes had gone dry staring at the random series of numbers that would connect him to you. He had never used them before. He never had a need to call you or attempt texting, you had always been here, just a few rooms away with a door that always opened for him. He was stuck, the words he wanted to say unable to make sense outside of his head. His thumb hovered over the call icon, wondering if you would even pick up. A notification dropped down from the top of the screen.  
A match? He didn’t understand the message. Curiosity pulled his thumb away from the bottom call button and up to the top. An app opened, an app he had perused a week ago at Sam’s instance. A pleasant face smiled up at him alongside his own profile picture. The message below the pictures told him to start a conversation. He almost did, after all it was easier to talk to a stranger than to bite the bullet and attempt to talk to you. He didn’t care if the stranger never answered, if the stranger hated him or tired of him, the stranger didnt mean anything to him whereas you meant everything. He stared at the feminine face again, unable to recall if he had ever seen it before but knowing it wasn’t holding the smile he wanted to see directed at him.  
“Buck?” Steve called questioningly from the doorway. Bucky’s head snapped up, eyes wide. Steve pulled himself into the room and quietly shut the door behind him.  
“What are you doing in here?” He asked softly as he settled in next to his oldest friend. Bucky’s chuckle was laced with self pity. He ran his hands through his hair and tugged, a light punishment for the vulnerable moment he was about to indulge in.  
“I’ve spent every night in here for eight months.” He confessed, his thumb stroking the screen and keeping it alive. After a few beats of silence he dared to look up from his lap and into the face of one of the most important people in his life. He didn’t know what he expected to see. Shock, disgust, a knowing smirk? He saw none of those things looking back at him. Steve looked like he…suddenly understood.  
“Did you download tinder before or after you guys broke up?” He asked, cracking a smile as he pointed to the match screen still illuminated.  
“Before. Sam downloaded it for me. Said I needed to meet people.”  
Steve’s laugh was sudden and loud, it scared away the smothering shadow of despair that had made its home there since you left. Bucky managed to crack a grin without too much effort, he eyes crinkling in the corners.  
“Sam downloaded it for me too. It’s a dating app. If Sam had known, if any of us would have known…” Steve trailed off and Bucky knew that was the extent of his admonishment. He knew now that he shouldn’t have kept you a secret, of course he knew now that you were gone and it was over.  
“That explains all the dames.” Bucky joked, though the grin he had managed didn’t stay. He wasn’t interested in dating, he wasn’t one for relationships, or so he had always told himself.  
“Can you help me delete this thing?” Bucky asked, holding out his phone. Steve nodded and accepted the device, fingers moving slow but more knowingly than Bucky’s ever did. He handed it back after a few minutes.  
“Can you help me with something else too?”  
-  
You arrived early to the training room, eager to see your friends and get moving. You were lonely all the time now, not just when you woke up alone. It was hard to fall asleep without the familiar cold weight of Bucky’s arm across your middle. You were tired and alone, but everytime you picked up your phone with the intention of remedying your mood you imaged Bucky ignoring your call or text for some girl on tinder, or multiple girls your head would correct if you were feeling particularly negative.  
Despite looking forward to seeing your friends you always had a nagging trepidation that made your heart rate speed up at the prospect fo seeing Bucky again. You thought it had been hard before, when all you had to do was keep your hands off him and your gaze infrequent, but now when all you wanted to do was yell and cry and hit and hug and kiss and hold, all those things took at least twice as much willpower to contain. Getting over him would be hard.  
You entered the large workout space unprepared for the full house within. Your eyes flicked to the clock on the wall, confirming you were indeed early. Your friends and teammates seemed like they were all waiting for something, and that something seemed to be you. They stood shoulder to shoulder, the same look of anticipation on their faces, only Steve’s smirk told you he was alone in his knowledge of the current activity.  
You greeted your friends, coming closer when they didn’t disperse from their formation. The door swung open behind you, causing all eyes to turn to the only other person not already in the room. You didnt need to turn to know who had just arrived, you noticed instantly that he wasn’t there. Still, you turned around.  
Bucky was smiling, and that’s all you could really take in because the smile was so big and bright it filled you up to almost overflowing. He called your name and your heart skipped a beat, you hadn’t heard is voice in so long and its smooth, deep, unique sound vibrated through your ears and into your chest. He met you in the middle and you didn’t realize you had moved towards him until his hand came to rest on your cheek, fingers carding through the hair that hung in front of your ear. You wanted to savor his touch, you had been yearning for it, lamenting over it really, since you left, but all these people…  
“Bucky,” you whispered, eyes flicking to the side where you could vaguely make out your friends, “what are you doing?”  
“Something I should have done from the beginning.” He whispered back, his smile fading as the the nerves set in. He brushed his thumb over your top lip, staring intently at the motion. He clenched his jaw and swallowed before turning to address the silent gathering.  
“About eight months ago I entered a relationship, that until now I was hiding from all of you, from my team. I wasn’t ashamed,” Bucky continued to address the team, though now he eyes were back on yours and you knew the meaning of his message was yours to hear, “I was afraid. Afraid of being vulnerable, afraid of losing control, losing the person I was. Because Bucky Barnes doesn’t do relationships.”  
You felt the hot tear fall from your eye and trail down your cheek, meeting Bucky’s palm and spreading itself into the seam between your flesh.  
“I want all of you to know that I love this woman. I want our relationship back and I want it public. I want her to know I’m an idiot though I’m pretty sure she already knows.” Laughter bubbled and burst from everyone’s lips, though yours trembled with more emotion than amusement. You watched Bucky’s eyes roam your face affectionately, his thumb absently brushing your lip again, spreading the salty wetness of your tears into the sensitive skin.  
“So whataya say doll? Will you let me kiss you in front of all our friends?”  
You smiled shyly and nodded, a grateful giggle escaping your chest. Bucky’s other hand came fo rest on your hip, cold yet welcomed, and you shivered in anticipation. When his lips connected to yours you could hear the whistles and cheers but they slowly faded as Bucky poured everything had had into the kiss. You could feel his love, his regret, his hope, and his fear all at once as he kissed you deeply and fully. Your arms lifted to rest upon his shoulders, one hand running through his hair. You captured the satisfied groan he emitted in your mouth and swallowed it whole, letting it warm you all the way down to your toes.  
-  
Waking up was the happiest you ever felt. You shivered at the tired groan exhaled on the back of your neck and smiled as the weighty, mechanical arm, now warmed by your body all night, tightened and pulled you closer to its owner.  
“Happy anniversary.” Bucky grumbled sleepily, placing wet, sloppy kisses to your shoulder. You turned in his arms and accepted his plush lips and morning breath graciously. Bucky eventually ran out of steam and his lips relaxed as his eyes fluttered shut, you really wore him out last night it seemed. You pushed his hair out of his face and let your nails graze his sensitive scalp, he moaned in appreciation and tucked his head into your shoulder. You continued to card you hand through his dark hair and settled further into your pillow.  
“Happy one year anniversary, Bucky. I love you.”


End file.
